


Merely Players

by woodsong_1978 (Vae)



Category: Firefly, Torchwood
Genre: Community: tw_exchange, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-31
Updated: 2007-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-25 08:34:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vae/pseuds/woodsong_1978
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the early 21st century, Lassiter's first working prototype of a laser pistol is stolen along with the designs. To restore the path to Earth's first contact, Jack Harkness goes through the rift to retrieve a reliably recorded Lassiter - from the custody of Malcolm Reynolds, smuggler and captain of a Firefly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merely Players

"Jack? You need to see this."

Jack glanced up from his screen, frowning slightly at the sight of Tosh in the doorway, clutching a sheaf of printouts. Her jaw was set in that way that told him she really meant it, and wasn't about to be distracted by gossip, technology, or anecdotes about his previous sexual encounters. Or, for that matter, his current ones.

Leaning back in his chair with a slight smile, he tilted his head and focused his attention on her. "Okay, Tosh, hit me. What's the news?"

"It's Dr. Lassiter's lab." She edged further into the room, brows creasing nervously. "You know, the laser research people?"

"Right." The name was familiar, although Jack couldn't quite pin down why. Not yet. Lassiter. Lasers. Twenty-first century...should be on the verge of a major breakthrough.

"He's been working on a gun, Jack. Some kind of laser pistol."

"Right!" That was it! Lassiter. The first laser pistol. Crucial division point in history, splitting humanity off in one of two directions - the one, where alien contact was established and the environmental issues were addressed once and for all. The other - where humanity existed in blissful ignorance for another millennia, exploring their own galaxy and creating their own monsters before being discovered, conquered and destroyed. He'd never been clear about what the pistol had to do with that lack of contact, but the Doctor had been pretty definite on the point. Along with some entirely unnecessary rhapsodising on the inventiveness of humanity. It was only a laser pistol. Granted, the first one that humanity invented, but, still. Pretty basic. "And you're telling me this because....?"

Tosh set the papers down on Jack's desk, finger pointing at a rough sketch, a scanned photograph half-visible on the next sheet. "Because it's gone. Dr. Lassiter had a working prototype, he finally confirmed it last week - and two days ago, someone broke into his lab, and took the prototype. Not just the prototype, but the blueprints, the designs...it's all gone, Jack. Even the preliminary research."

Jack frowned. "So, they've had a break-in. It's hardly unusual, Tosh. Sounds like a pretty thorough thief, too, almost as good as I am - was. I mean was! Don't give me that look, I haven't stolen anything for...hey, look, when's last time I stole something?"

She raised an eyebrow and directed her attention to his desk. 

He offered an insincere smile and her MP3 player. "I was just checking it was working. Incidentally, you have _great_ taste in music."

"Jack." She took it, pushing it into her pocket. "You're missing the point."

"So they had a break-in, it _happens_ , Tosh. I really don't see why - "

"Just look at the scans, Jack."

He looked.

***

Jack was left in no doubt of Ianto's disapproval. The man had retreated into a distant and dignified silence directly after the meeting where Jack had revealed his plan, and if that hadn't been enough of a clue, the lack of coffee and chilly politeness were definitely enough to let him know. That and the fact Ianto was wearing that damn shirt again. The one Jack hated. He could still see the slightly clumsy repairs where Ianto had sewn the buttons on again after last time Jack had torn it off him, far too long ago.

Gwen's disapproval was more vocal. And more worried. "No-one's ever done it, Jack. I've seen the files, no-one's _ever_ been through the rift and returned successfully."

"No-one else ever had Tosh's calculations to set the Rift machine." Jack grinned, straightening his waistcoat and settling the collarless jacket more neatly across his shoulders before turning back to face his team. "How do I look?"

"Like an expensive gigolo," Owen commented, pen dancing around his fingers and eventually, to Jack's great satisfaction, slipping to the floor with a clatter. "We should pin a price tag to your lapel and hang a red fucking light around your neck."

"Cute, Owen. And thanks - I think that's the first compliment you've ever paid me."

"What?"

Tosh stifled a giggle. "You called him expensive, Owen."

Jack hoped the CCTV managed to capture that expression on Owen's face, because really, that was priceless. "We don't have a choice, Gwen. We have _got_ to retrieve either a prototype, or the plans, and the originals are gone. There's only one location on record for the original."

"Location?" Ianto questioned, with a raised eyebrow.

"Okay. Time." Jack glanced around at his team, eyes resting on Ianto just slightly too long. "Don't get too comfortable without me around. I'm coming back."

Ianto's lips tightened almost imperceptibly before he turned and walked away in the direction of the main door. 

"I'm coming back," Jack repeated, with more emphasis. "Gwen, don't let Owen do anything stupid. Owen, don't kill Gwen, and don't lock her in the cells. Or anywhere else. Two days, Tosh. You've got all the figures you need?"

"Absolutely." She nodded eagerly. "Beaumonde, Twenty-sixth century."

"Tell me you've got it down more than a planet and a century, Tosh."

"Oh, yes. Definitely." Tosh's smile was too bright to be convincing. Jack hesitated for a split-second, but it was immaterial, really. The risk had to be taken. The alternatives didn't bear thinking of. Apart from anything else, paradox would dictate that humanity wouldn't even survive long enough for Jack to be born.

"Okay then. Fire her up."

***

"Mrs. Haymer, you must understand that it's in your best interests to co-operate in this case." Jack leaned forwards across the table, hands clasped, earnestness in his very posture. It had been easier than he'd expected to con his way into the secure facility where Yolanda Haymer was being confined. It was almost a disappointment, really. He'd been anticipating a challenge. 

The woman in question, though, was providing every bit of the challenge that Alliance security hadn't.

She blinked at him, a tear forming at the corner of her eye, lip trembling, the picture of injured innocence. "But you have to believe me, Captain, I had nothing to do with the theft! Captain Reynolds -"

If he hadn't been looking for the subtle tells, Jack might even have believed her, but she wasn't quite good enough. The spark in her wide blue eyes and the hint of tension in her jaw were definite clues, if he'd needed them. "Mrs. Haymer - Yolanda. May I call you Yolanda?"

She nodded, the tear escaping to leave a shining trail down her face.

"Yolanda." He injected warmth into his tone and flashed her his best 'trust me' smile. "We have your husband's testimony that you confessed your involvement in the theft - and your relationship with Mr. Reynolds - minutes before our soldiers arrived."

"I _had_ to!" Her voice broke on a sob. "Mal was...you don't know what he would have _done_ to me..."

It was an admirable performance, Jack had to admit. Progress, though...she'd gone from 'Captain Reynolds' to 'Mal' - not just the man's name, but a diminutive. "After you tried to turn him in, you mean? After your attempted double-cross and sabotage of his ship?"

That glare was probably the first genuine reaction she'd shown him, brief as it was, immediately fading into tearful appeal. "Do I look like I know how to sabotage a Firefly?"

Bingo. "Did I say it was a Firefly?" Jack dropped the mask of amusement and laid his hands flat on the table, studying her intently.

Yolanda pouted, then settled back with a sulky expression. "Oh, right, fine. So maybe I did."

"Look, Yolanda - or Bridget, or Saffron, or Morwenna, or Gwendolyn, or whatever name you want to go by this week - you level with me, and I'll level with you. I need that Lassiter. You give me the information I need to get it, you'll be out of here inside the week."

***

It was a relief to get out of the scratchy uniform and back into the Oriental-influenced lightweight suit. Not that the suit was any less formal - just more comfortable. Some personas fitted more easily than others.

***

Jack didn't have to wait long for Serenity's crew to begin appearing in the market place. He turned to examine a display of fabrics when Reynolds appeared, wearing the same scowl as he had in the scans Yolanda Haymer had directed him to. The scowl, a long, well-cut brown coat, and very tight pants. Jack took a moment to discreetly admire the man's physique before turning his attention back to the material, shaking his head and giving the disappointed vendor a charming smile as he moved away.

Where one led, others followed...the tall first mate strode through the market place arm-in-arm with the pilot. Jack watched them carefully. Definitely better to make the attempt to retrieve the Lassiter when she was off ship. The woman appeared relaxed and focused on her husband, but those dark eyes didn't miss a thing - definitely not the urchin attempting to take her money-pouch.

Still, there were other members of the crew remaining. A mercenary, who seemed to be more brawn than brain from the details Yolanda had provided, but sadly entirely hetero, according to the numerous and complimentary reports. And one more - a mechanic. Yolanda had dismissed the young lady entirely, describing her as an innocent fool. Jack watched carefully as the smiling girl headed straight for the scrap merchants. She made no attempt to hide her eagerness to acquire particular items - he recognised one of them as a spare compression coil for an 03, slightly skewed - but no fool would be capable of Kaylee's determined bargaining. Determined and also successful, to the point where the coil was balanced precariously on top of the other things in her arms, threatening to fall, and that was an opportunity Jack wasn't about to let pass. 

Weaving swiftly through the crowds, he caught the oddly moulded part before it could reach the ground, and looked up into startled brown eyes that warmed and brightened when she returned his smile.

***

"So, what did you say was wrong with your ship?" Kaylee asked a little breathlessly, fingers curling around Jack's arm.

He slowed his pace, grateful that the merchant had been willing to deliver her purchases directly back to her ship, and thought fast, covering his hesitation with a rueful grin. "If I knew that one, Kaylee, I wouldn't be asking for your help to take a look. I've fixed a few in my time, but this one's beyond me."

"Oh!" She frowned, silent for a few minutes. Then, "Did they teach you that at the Training House?"

Jack cursed silently. His research hadn't extended to the full range of subjects covered in a Guild Training House, but engine repair seemed unlikely to be on the syllabus. "Just basic maintenance," he lied smoothly, bringing her to a halt beside the ship he'd liberated from Haymer's collection. "I've had to learn a few things to keep her space-worthy since."

Kaylee nodded distractedly, her attention entirely on the ship as she reeled off a list of technical specifications and admiring comments that left Jack knowing considerably more about the ship than he'd learned from flying it for twelve hours.

He held the door open for her to go in first. It wasn't strictly necessary, but she seemed the sort of girl to appreciate the gesture. 

"You must be really good at your job." She trailed fingers along the back of a chair and gave him a roguish grin that sparked warmth, and made him re-evaluate her age. And her innocence. "To have all these shiny things...I guess you must get a lot of presents, though, right?"

Jack closed the door, and then settled into the chair, leaning back to press against her hand for a moment, and looked up at her. There was a slight smudge of grease on her upper arm, and he reached up to stroke it gently. "I acquire a few unusual things in my line of work. As for how good I am...you could find out."

She withdrew her hand immediately, shaking her head. "Oh, no, I ain't...can't afford the services of a real Companion. I'll just take a look at your nav systems, be on my way."

***

Ten minutes later, Kaylee had discovered the cross wiring in the main navigation interface, and was flat on her back under the flight console, skirt rising up around softly curved thighs. Jack watched for the occasional glimpses of fierce concentration on her face as she muttered to herself, only momentarily distracted by the shimmy of her hips as she wriggled further underneath, fabric slipping higher to reveal more and more smooth skin.

"Do you have a sweetheart, Kaylee?"

"What? I ...oh...ow." There was a soft thump and then muffled swearing.

"Sorry."

"Just my head...I'm fine...I, um...kinda. I mean, there's this one guy, but..." She gave a one-shouldered shrug that collided with another circuit board and brought forth another Mandarin curse. 

Jack briefly wished his Mandarin was better, because the few syllables he'd understood sounded intriguing. "Turned out to be a jerk, huh?"

"No!" There was more wriggling, and then Kaylee's face appeared, a frown writing dark lines in her forehead where dust and dirt from under the desk worked into the furrows. "I mean, he ain't...ain't real good at talking, but...." She wrapped her arms around her knees and looked up at him with a sigh. "No. No sweetie."

"He must be blind." Jack reached down to help her up, keeping hold of her hand to draw her close. "Blind, and stupid...to let a beautiful girl like you pass him by."

Her eyes widened in surprise, edge of a smile tugging at her mouth. "Shen me?"

"I'm saying that you're beautiful, Kaylee." He brushed the back of his other hand across her cheek, wiping away a smear of dust. "Beautiful, intelligent...and _very_ sexy."

She licked her lips, eyes locked with his, standing very still. "I should get back. I mean...you must have clients, or something?"

Jack smiled, fingers lingering on her face. "Not tonight. I thought I'd be stuck here for another day or two, looking for someone to repair my ship - which means my schedule is completely clear. Tonight, I am _entirely_ at your service."

"I can't...I got no credit, Mr. Harkness."

"Call it my way of saying thanks." He held up a finger, and then pressed it against her lips to halt her protests. "And call me Jack."

***

She was even more beautiful out of the garish dress, promise of long legs and lush bosom fulfilled in gentle curves that invited his eyes, his hands, his mouth while she explored him with equal enthusiasm and less patience. The squeal of surprised delight she let out when he lifted her into his arms to carry her over to the bed was nearly as arousing as the low moan she gave when he stretched his body against hers, although his favourite of her sounds was definitely the breathless gasp she made when he moved inside her. Four hundred years on, and some things remained gloriously unchanged.

***

"...so I been with Serenity ever since. Nearly two years, now, and I ain't been home in over a year." There was a trace of wistfulness in Kaylee's voice. 

Jack dropped a soft kiss on her forehead, fingers easing through the tangles in her hair. "You miss it." It wasn't a question.

"Not home, so much. I mean, Serenity's home, right? And the folk there are real nice, well, mostly, kinda like family, but..."

"But they're not _your_ family."

"Yeah." Kaylee sighed, shifting restlessly against his side. "You got any family, Jack? I guess, being a Companion and all, travelling around all independent-like...guess you can go see them whenever you like."

Jack spared a moment to be glad she couldn't see his face. He wasn't about to admit that the closest thing he had to a family he could ever visit was his team back at the Hub, back in the twenty-first century. Every imperfect, petty, flawed, brittle, resourceful, inspired, beautiful one of them. Time to steer the conversation in another direction. "Tell me about Serenity, then."

"She ain't as sleek as your girl." Her hand traced across his chest, following the line of his collarbone. It was an idle touch, he could tell. No intention behind it. "She's a Firefly - a nought-three. Ain't so much to look at, but she's real shiny."

Jack grinned at the word, storing it away. There was one to try out back at the hub, just to see the reactions. "She near to here?"

"About a mile away. Oh, gou shi!" Kaylee's hand stilled and her head tilted against his shoulder. "I should...should get back, Cap'n said...I told Zoë I'd be back by sunset!"

Jack smiled. "Then I'll take you back home. No - " He covered her mouth with his hand to stop her protests. "I insist. It's the least I can do."

When he removed his hand, Kaylee returned the smile. "I should get dressed first."

"So should I. Soon. Sunset's still a couple of hours away, and you, Kaylee Frye, are a breath of fresh air." He leaned in, pressing his nose against her neck and nipped lightly, bringing forth a giggle. "Let's breathe some more..."

***

" _That's_ your ship?" Jack paused, looking it over. Kaylee's description had been accurate - Serenity wasn't much to look at. Squat and heavy, anyone seeing her docked at Beaumonde would wonder how she ever managed to fly - except Jack had seen far less likely things in his time than a flying bug. Still, the pause gave him time to assess the craft. Smallish, certainly, but the access points were strictly limited to the main door through the cargo bay, and some kind of loading hatch beneath.

"Well, she ain't mine, so much, but the captain gives me a real free hand with the engines, long as I keep her flying and don't ask for too much credit for parts." Kaylee tugged at his arm, drawing him closer to the bay doors. "You like her?"

Jack shifted the package under his other arm and allowed himself to be led, flashing her a grin. "She's beautiful, Kaylee." His grin widened. "Shiny."

Her answering smile was bright enough to outshine the setting sun. "Just wait until you see her engines."

"I can't wait. I want you to show me _everything_."

***

There were even more possible hiding places on a Firefly than Jack had imagined, and he'd imagined quite a lot when he'd gone over the blueprints. It was hardly a surprise that they were so popular for smuggling, or that Malcolm Reynolds had managed to hide fugitives on board for so long, although he was pretty sure that Kaylee wouldn't be taking him anywhere near the Tams. Yolanda had only mentioned them briefly, but it was a fair bet that Simon Tam was the mysterious "he" Kaylee had referred to. By all accounts, the man was inhumanly pretty. Sadly, pretty guys weren't his priority this time. Very sadly, since there seemed to be an excess of them on Serenity, and only one of them was unavailable. Well, two, if you counted the so-called "Shepherd". Jack didn't. Derrial Book was too big a fish for him to tangle with.

Malcolm Reynolds, on the other hand...well. He wasn't looking too friendly, but that kind of suited him. As did the pistol. It looked remarkably similar to Jack's own...which was back in the twenty-first century, because apparently Companions didn't carry pistols. Somehow, Jack didn't expect Captain Reynolds to be slack enough to give him time to get to any of the knives secreted about his person, even the nifty stiletto at his wrist. Instead, he raised his hands and backed up a step, pasting on a non-threatening smile. "Hi."

The captain ignored Jack completely, except to keep the pistol trained steadily at his heart. "Kaylee. Wanna tell me what you've brought to my boat this time?"

There was a gentle touch of fingers to Jack's arm as Kaylee moved around him. "Captain, this is Jack. Jack Harkness. He's a Companion."

"Figured that much. And since I'm knowing that you ain't got the funds to contract with a Companion, Kaylee, wanna try telling me what he's doing here?" Reynolds' jaw tightened. The pistol never wavered.

Jack decided not to dislike the man. Not yet. "Kaylee was kind enough to give me a hand with a touch of engine trouble, and I offered to escort her back. You must be Captain Reynolds."

"Must I?"

"Unless there's more than one captain on this ship?" Jack strengthened his smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you." He risked lowering a hand, and offered it to the captain, who stared at it for a moment as if he didn't recognise the gesture, then snapped the safety on his pistol and holstered it. It was a good handshake. Firm. Definite. It said, clearer than any words could, that Kaylee was family, and not to be messed with. Jack could respect that, except that Kaylee was very definitely woman enough to make her own decisions about messing. Jack held the man's gaze for a long moment, nothing but open sincerity in his face, and then stepped back, releasing the captain's hand and reaching for Kaylee instead. "So. You were gonna show me the engine room?"

***

An hour later, slightly breathless, Jack shared one more long, delicious kiss with Kaylee before rolling out of the hammock and shrugging back into trousers and shirt. He couldn't resist a final glance at her as he hooked his jacket over his shoulder, opting to carry shoes out of the engine room rather than put them on and disturb her. Hammocks. Marvellous invention.

Time was strictly limited. Less than three hours before Tosh would attempt to pull him back to the twenty-first century, and he'd get no better opportunity to search than now, with Serenity's crew mostly off-ship and Kaylee thoroughly and happily exhausted. She'd shown him over most of Serenity before the captain had interrupted earlier, but there'd been no sign of the Lassiter prototype, and a hell of a lot of possible hidey-holes around the ship.

Jack was halfway along the second passageway in the passenger quarters, hand poised to slide one more door open, when he felt the unmistakeable sensation of a pistol pressed against the centre of his back. A cold, insistent circle of unforgiving metal, easily distinguishable through the light fabric of his jacket.

"See," the captain's voice said conversationally, close to Jack's ear, "Thing you need to know is, we carry a _real_ Companion on board this boat. And she says you ain't on the register, Mr. Harkness. So, let's try this again. Who are you, and what are you doing on my ship?"

Jack moved his hand away from the door, and tried a chuckle. "You know, we really have to stop meeting like this."

The door opened, and Jack tried hard not to stare. The scans really didn't do Simon Tam any kind of justice. 

"No flies on Serenity," remarked a young, clear voice.

Jack closed his mouth anyway.

***

Being surrounded by a collection of attractive people wouldn't usually bother Jack in the slightest. In fact, he rather enjoyed it. Unfortunately, these weren't exactly usual circumstances.

Kaylee was standing next to an exotically beautiful woman, arms linked together, and that made for a picture he'd really have liked to see more of, except for that expression on Kaylee's face. That look of betrayal. "Kaylee -"

"No." A tap of the pistol barrel against his face returned Jack's attention to Reynolds. So far, neither of the plausible stories Jack had offered - including the original one he'd given Kaylee - had been acceptable to the captain. "No, you've done your number on her. Try harder, Harkness. Ain't gonna work on me."

Jack couldn't resist a smile at that. "Now _that_ is a damn shame. Why don't you start by calling me Jack?"

Reynolds' expression matched one Jack had once seen on the first English Queen Victoria, although on reflection he should probably have known better than to try _that_ at a dinner party. At least, the second time.

"Why don't you start by telling us the truth?"

"Because you wouldn't believe that either."

"Try me." The words were bitten out with ruthless precision.

"Fine." Jack let his head drop for a moment, gathering a deep breath and summoning a bored tone, ignoring the pull in his shoulders from the bindings holding his wrists together behind his back. Wouldn't take much longer to be free of them, but Reynolds had obviously had practise in restraining people, which gave Jack all kinds of distracting ideas. "I've come from the twenty-first century to recover an artefact to ensure the survival of humanity when the first alien race makes contact."

"What artefact?" Reynolds leaned in, ignoring the truths Jack had given in favour of the one he hadn't.

Jack met his gaze without betraying even a flicker of reaction. "A laser pistol. Developed by a man named Lassiter."

That got a reaction, all right. "Inara, go check on our passengers. Kaylee, go get in contact with Zoë. I want everyone back here _now_."

"Giving us some time alone?"

Reynolds scowled.

"Harkness?"

The captain's head snapped up, focus shifting to someone standing behind Jack. "You know this man, Shepherd?"

"Shepherd?" Jack tried to turn his head far enough to see the new arrival.

"For now. Hello, Jack. You got the message, then."

Jack envied the captain's extensive knowledge of Mandarin curses and wished he could match it. Suddenly it made horrible sense that Torchwood Four had ended up in the twenty-sixth century.

***

"I'm authorised to offer you a fair price." Jack tugged sleeves back over his wrists. Immortality unfortunately didn't grant him immunity from injury. It would be a few days before he'd be able to move those comfortably again. Of course, it would probably have been less if he'd been content to simply sit and wait rather than trying to free himself, as Derrial Book hadn't failed to point out.

Reynolds leaned back against the counter, pistol thankfully holstered again, arms folded across his chest as he surveyed Jack. "What kind of price we talking about here?"

"What are you asking?" Jack returned, far too aware that Book would be able to spot any bluff he offered. Shame, really, since that was pretty much all he had. "Fresh food, fuel, spare parts, credit..."

"Credit's no good to me." The captain shook his head. "Can't be accounting for that manner of windfall. Cash and contacts."

"How much cash?" Jack thought rapidly. Platinum wasn't something he could lay his hands on easily, but it was a breeze compared to Alliance forged banknotes and coins. He could probably lean on Torchwood Four for the contacts. Possibly. Maybe. Hell, it was worth a try.

"Well, now, that's the question. The Lassiter's priceless." Reynolds smirked.

Jack pounced. "So, if it's priceless, what will you get for it from anyone else? Who are you going to sell it to, Captain? You didn't steal that to order, you've got no buyer lined up and no price set. You may as well sell it to me, right here, right now. I'll give you a fair price, I'll take it off your hands, and I can personally guarantee you that you will _never_ hear of its whereabouts again."

"The man's got a point," Book agreed.

From the look on Reynolds' face, Jack couldn't quite work out if Book's support was a help or a hindrance. "No more looking over your shoulder for Haymer's people, Captain." He paused, remembering the flash of a glare on Yolanda's face. "No more looking over your shoulder for Haymer's wife."

That one seemed to be a persuasive argument.

***

"If you build offices on rifts in the space-time continuum, you have to accept the risk that someday, one will slip through." Book leaned on the railing next to Jack, attention ostensibly on the bay below. 

Jack raised an eyebrow, reaching back to check on the shape of the pistol in the carrysack resting against his hip one more time. "Yeah. Pretty extreme way to escape from reporting to Yvonne, though. You heard about One?"

"We had the news, yes." There was a finality to the man's tone that suggested strongly that there was no more to say on the subject. Evidently Four had some kind of reliable communication through the rift, which was more than Three had ever managed, at least in the seventy or so years Jack had been there. 

Silence stretched between them, broken by the sound of running footsteps. River Tam appeared in the bay at high speed, hair streaming behind her, eyes bright with laughter. Jack couldn't help smiling in response, until she stopped, frowned, and began to mutter to herself, turning in slow circles. Her brother appeared rapidly, but she resisted his urging to leave, fixing her eyes on Jack instead. "Pa bryd y daw?" she called, urgently. "Pam yr ydych yn hwyr?"

Simon hushed her, pulling her close. His soft words were inaudible from the catwalk above, merging into a gentle flow of reassurance.

"She often do this?"

"More often than we'd like." Book sighed. "That poor girl. At least when she speaks Chinese they can understand her words, if not her meaning, but I don't recognise that one."

"I do." Jack watched Simon lead his sister away. "At least, I know the language. Not the meaning."

Except the general meaning. Time to go home.

***

The cool night breeze lifting Jack's hair was the last detail that convinced him that the weight of the carrysack was real. That somehow, Reynolds had been persuaded not only to sell him the Lassiter, but also to have his doctor dress Jack's wrists. He still regretted not being able to speak with Kaylee again, but it was better that way. Maybe she'd even manage to get somewhere with that doctor. Given leisure, he might have tried himself. Probably for both of them.

Still, leisure was one thing he didn't have. Though, thank God for Tosh, he did have a way back, and a very interesting report to submit to One on his return. He'd assign Ianto some overtime to get it typed. It was the only way he'd achieve some time alone with Ianto, and it was past time to address that situation.

***

The moment the world steadied beneath his feet, Jack slipped the bag from his shoulder, tossing it towards Tosh. Good thing she caught it. "Okay, Toshiko, get that back to Dr. Lassiter, tell him to keep a better eye on it this time. If he's still not fixed that security issue, stay with him, then bring it back here, I'm not going through that again."

Shaking his head to clear the last of the dizziness, he stepped forwards, digging into his pockets. A small enamelled box was next, handed over to Owen, who opened it to reveal a glass syringe of dark liquid. "What is it?"

"That's what I need you to tell me." Jack grinned, and then threw a smaller, cylindrical item towards Owen, laughing aloud when he fumbled the catch and it clattered to the floor. "Full chemical analysis, might come in useful. Or not. I want a report on my desk by Friday. That, too."

Gwen stooped to recover the object, pulling the lid off and frowning as she twisted the base. "Lipstick?"

"It's not lipstick. Don't try it out. On second thoughts, do, but don't kiss Rhys when you're wearing it, save it for Owen, I'd love to see his reaction. What's everyone staring at?" 

Tosh smiled brightly, hugging the bag close to her with both hands, moving towards the exit. "Nothing."

Her word was echoed by Gwen and Owen. Ianto, though, didn't seem to be prepared to ignore the metaphorical elephant. "Expecting you to come back alone, sir, we were." He offered a tight smile to Jack, and his hand to Jack's companion. "Good afternoon, miss. Welcome to Torchwood."

"Oh, right." Jack grinned, turning back towards them. "Everybody, I'd like you to meet... Mrs. Harkness. C'mon, Chloe, meet the gang."

He had the satisfaction of seeing the colour drain from Ianto's face and a slight hesitation when the curvaceous redhead slipped her hand into Ianto's polite hold. He'd spare time to feel guilty about it later. Maybe. 

"You got _married_?" Tosh whispered, eyes wide with shock.

Ianto handed Chloe down the steps carefully. Jack watched as she rewarded Ianto with an extra sway of hips and a flirtatious glance before moving towards him. He caught her before she could get too close, an apparently protective hand on her shoulder turning her around and pulling her back against his body. "Kind of an occupational hazard with this one. She makes a habit of it. How many guys are you married to now, Chloe?"

"That depends on when, and where, I am." She leaned back into him, shoulders pushing against his chest. 

He tightened his grip in response. Just because he'd caught the lipstick didn't mean he trusted her not to have anything else secreted about her person. Never underestimate an alien...and although she was human, she wasn't born on Earth, which made her alien. And she definitely had a sharp bite. "Cardiff, Wales, Earth, the year two thousand and seven. Welcome to the twenty-first century. Sorry, darling, the honeymoon's off. We're not getting married for over four hundred years."

"I always did prefer long engagements," she purred playfully, wriggling. "Then I guess I'm just free and single."

"Single, yes," Jack agreed, trying to ignore their audience. "Free, though...if you turn into half the agent I'm expecting, you just might be. But - if you hit on or try to play any of the team, I'll take you down myself. Unless it's Owen."

"Hey!" the doctor automatically protested, most of his attention still on the syringe. "So she's free to hit on me?"

Jack exchanged a look with Chloe, and released her. She pulled her dress straight, tugged her neckline down a little further and sashayed across to Owen. "Don't you want me, honey?"

"Frankly, sweetheart," Owen began, in a bored tone, and then looked up. He froze for a moment, head tilting, and a calculating look came into his eyes as he managed to lift them away from her cleavage. "Is this one of those alien life forms you were talking about, Harkness?"

"Technically," Jack agreed. "Okay, now we've got the chit chat over with, work, people. Gwen, see if you can find somewhere for Chloe to stay for now. Not here. Owen, analysis. Tosh - "

The door closed heavily. Jack raised an eyebrow. "At least one of you's keen to get on with it. Ianto, my office in five. I need your digital dexterity."

***

The view from Jack's office revealed an industrious scene. Chloe had evidently dismissed Gwen, who was doodling something that looked like a puppy with very sharp teeth as she clamped the phone between ear and shoulder, pen tapping against the pad of paper in between scribbles. Owen was frowning over the contents of the syringe. Occasionally small explosions erupted from his workbench, bringing delighted smiles from Chloe, who was in close attendance. Close enough to annoy him. She'd need some time to adjust to both Cardiff and the current century. Not much time.

A quiet snick of latch returning to housing drew Jack's attention away from the budding intrigue below, and over to Ianto, standing quietly just inside the door, expression coolly unreadable. "Congratulations, sir."

Jack paused for a moment, and then pasted on a wide smile while he tried to work out what he was being congratulated on. "Thanks."

"I'm sure she's a lovely girl," Ianto offered, making no move to get closer. 

"Chloe?" Jack laughed, relief at the explanation mixed with amusement at hearing her described that way. "She's a cold-hearted, self-centred, manipulative bitch, but she's good at what she does. She's got the wiles on Owen already. Come take a look."

"She's your _wife_ , sir." Ianto took one step towards Jack. Progress.

Time to offer the olive branch. "She's not, actually. Joys of time travel...she'll be my wife in four hundred and eleven years. Right now, I've only got seven husbands and four wives, and she's not one of them. And I'm not sure how many of those are valid on Earth in 2007."

Ianto shook his head, edge of a smile teasing at his mouth. "You are - " He stopped.

Jack watched as Ianto fought to suppress the smile. It really wasn't a battle he wanted to see Ianto win. It was a good smile, and didn't come out to play often enough, which meant it needed encouragement. "Go on, Ianto. Say it."

Ianto lost. "So full of shit, Jack."

"You don't know the half of it. Uh oh. Duty calls. Go catch Owen? He's gonna be passing out about forty seconds from now." Jack grinned. "Then I need you to put Chloe in the cells for an hour or so while we get this report done. Next to Janet should quiet her down for a while. And Ianto?"

"Yes?"

"Don't let her kiss you."

**Author's Note:**

>  **Translations:**  
>  **Mandarin**  
>  _gou shi_ \- crap  
>  **Welsh**  
>  _Pa bryd y daw?_ \- When will he come?  
>  _Pam yr ydych yn hwyr?_ \- Why are you late?
> 
> Torchwood is property of the BBC/RTD. Firefly is the property of FOX Entertainment/Joss Whedon. No infringement of copyright intended, no profit being made. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.
> 
> Thanks to lvs2read for the grammar/spelling beta and to fan_elune for the Torchwood beta. Written for the LJ tw_exchange crossover challenge.


End file.
